A/N: Hi! So this is a one shot loosely based on the movie Labor Day which is apparently based on a book with the same title. It's a period piece, a rather long one at that so settle in. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you have a lot of fun reading it.
Corpus Christi, Texas – September 1987
Friday
Olivia leaned as close to the steering wheel as she could, squinting through the rain blurring the windshield despite the fact that her wipers were on high. She was almost home, no more than ten minutes if she could just get there. She regretted leaving the diner where she worked so late, but she also regretted not waiting until the rain eased up some. She sighed, trying to stay close to the reflective lights on the median. A dog wandered onto the street and she swerved to miss him. She thought herself lucky until she hit something with her side mirror.
She wasn't sure if it was a man or a road sign, only that whatever it was went down hard. She almost kept driving, but the nagging suspicion that it was a man made her pull over. She pulled on her pink raincoat and grabbed her umbrella then switched on her hazard lights. She got out of the car and walked around to the side of the road, just as the soaked man clambered to his feet.
"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping closer to him. She didn't see any blood on him so she hoped she hadn't hurt him.
"You took a hell of a shot at my ribs but yeah," he replied.
"What are you doing walking around in this weather?"
He shrugged his broad shoulders, reaching up to push his wet hair back from his strikingly blue eyes. "Nowhere to go. Everything's closed."
"But you can't just wander the streets." She lifted her umbrella so he could step beneath it. She reached out and tentatively touched his abdomen. He winced. "I'm so sorry."
He shrugged. "You're getting wet."
"I'm not as wet as you." She again touched his ribs. "These might be broken."
"I've had worse."
"I've got to do something. I hit you with my car. I can't just leave you here."
He shrugged. "Take me home then."
Olivia's eyes widened. "No!"
"Why not?"
She smirked. "If you were me, would you take home a stranger off the street?"
"If I'd hit him with my car, probably," he replied. She looked away from him, mulling over the situation. "Look, you can lock me in the closet if you want. I just need somewhere dry to sleep until I can catch a bus tomorrow."
"Stand still," she commanded. He did as he was told, smirking as she handed him her umbrella then went through his pockets. She took out his wallet and looked at his driver's license then put it back in his back pocket. He was surprised when she squatted and pulled his jeans up to look in his boots. She stood and took her umbrella back. "Get in the car."
He did as he was told and she got in on the driver's side. She again looked him over as he dwarfed her little yellow Chevy truck. "Put your hands on the dashboard and don't move them."
He did as he was told and she pulled away from the curb. "So what kind of name is Fitzgerald? Did your parents hate you?"
He smirked. "You're making fun of my name but I don't even know yours."
"It's Olivia." She gave a glimmer of a smile. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," he replied with a smile. "Although I wish it were under drier, less painful circumstances."
They drove to Olivia's house and entered in silence. Fitz looked around the warm, femininely decorated house, and wondered if Olivia was married. He didn't see any pictures of her and a man, and all the shoes by the door were hers, so he guessed she was single.
He followed her into the kitchen and stood in the middle of the floor, dripping quietly. Olivia retrieved a towel from the laundry room and he used it to wipe his face and dry his hair, watching as she turned on the coffee maker. He took off his leather jacket and placed it gingerly on a chair, thinking he'd feel better without it, but he found himself almost shivering in the warm kitchen.
"Follow me," she instructed then led him upstairs to a bedroom that he guessed was hers. She pointed to the light blue bathroom. "You can shower in there. There's clothes and all that in the closet. Help yourself to whatever."
She left him there and he went to the closet. He was surprised to find men's clothes and wondered if he had been wrong about her being single. He looked around the room and again found no pictures. He found himself confused as he got into the shower, grateful for the warm water.
Downstairs, Olivia milled around the kitchen, listening to the shower run above her. She took the pot of chili she'd made the previous night from the refrigerator and put it on the stove to heat up. She quickly mixed a pan of cornbread batter and placed the skillet next to the pot then went to turn on the radio. Whitney Houston's "How Will I Know" drifted through the speakers and she smiled as she stirred the chili. She went to the hall closet and retrieved blankets and sheets to make up the sofa bed then set to work pulling it out.
"Need some help?" She jumped at his voice, having almost forgotten he was in the house. She turned around and found him standing before her in fresh clothes, a t-shirt and plaid flannel pajama pants. She had to admit he was much better looking than she'd thought. And he smelled heavenly, like Stephen. He repeated the question and she looked back at the couch.
"Oh. Yes," she answered. Fitz moved around her and pulled the bed out easily.
"I can make it up myself," he offered. "You don't need to trouble yourself for me."
"It's no trouble." She made the bed quickly, telling him that he could have her spare pillow as he followed her into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"
"I could eat." And he did, three bowls of chili and a fourth of the skillet of cornbread. Olivia wasn't sure if it was a compliment to her cooking or if he was just starving. She stood by the stove for a while before telling him that she was going to get bandages for his ribs. "You don't have to do that. It doesn't even hurt anymore."
"I'd feel better if I bandaged you up though."
She left the kitchen and went upstairs to the bathroom to get a roll of ace bandages for his ribs. She collected his wet clothes then took them downstairs to the laundry room. She put them in the washing machine and started it then went to the kitchen. Fitz was sipping his glass of sweet tea. He smiled at her. "Good tea. Good food too."
"Thank you." She stood next to him. "Stand up and lift up your shirt."
He did as he was told, wincing as she began winding the wrap around him snugly. "Did you kill your husband?"
She looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes. "No. Why do you ask?"
"You've got a closet full of men's clothes up there but no man. You don't even have a picture of one."
She finished wrapping his midsection then went to the living room and retrieved a photo hidden in the drawer of a table that held a vase of red tulips. She brought it to him and he took it, looking at the dark haired man in it. He and Olivia sat on the porch swing on the front porch, smiling and hugging. "That's Stephen, my husband. Well, ex-husband I should say. He left me for Canada about 5 years ago. He still writes at Christmas."
"He left you but he still writes?" Fitz handed back the picture.
Olivia frowned as she looked down at it. "Stephen is…special…in a way that's easier to be in Canada. People don't judge so harshly there like they do here."
Fitz nodded. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not. He's happy now. He wasn't here." She put the picture away then returned to the kitchen and collected his dirty dishes then rinsed them off before putting them in the dishwasher. She turned off the radio. "Well I'm going to bed. Holler if you need anything."
"Goodnight," he replied. He followed her into the living room and watched as she ascended the stairs.
Olivia went into her bedroom and closed the door then locked it. She smiled at her tiny white maulti-poo, Holly Golightly, as she sat in the middle of her bed, seemingly waiting for her. "We've got company, Holly."
The little dog tilted her head, moving up to the head of the bed to lay where Olivia's other pillow had been before she gave it to Fitz. Olivia removed her uniform, throwing it into the hamper in the corner of her room. "He seems nice enough, kind of reminds me of Stephen."
Olivia wrapped a towel around herself then went into the bathroom. She inhaled the scent Fitz had left behind—clean linen, soap, the woods, and something musky, something oh so manly. Olivia took a long shower, washing the muggy scent of rain out of her hair, singing along to the O'Jay's on the radio playing in her bedroom. After her shower, she dressed for bed then climbed under the covers. Holly joined her, curling into the curve of her waist. Olivia turned off the radio and stared at the ceiling, wondering what fate had in store for her by bringing Fitz into her life.
Saturday
Olivia awoke as she usually did, with Holly's sharp barking in her ear. She tumbled out of bed and put on Stephen's navy bathrobe over his old nightshirt then stepped into her flip flops.
"Let's go, little lady," she yawned. They went downstairs and Olivia noticed the sofa bed was unoccupied and made up as they passed to go to the front door. Olivia stood on the front porch, watching as Holly scampered to her spot behind the oak tree, and pulled her pack of Virginia Slims from her pocket. She lit it and placed it between her lips.
"Good morning." Olivia jumped at the sound of his voice, turning around to look at him with wide eyes. He smiled. "Didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay," she replied, accidentally exhaling a plume of smoke in his face. She fanned it away quickly. "I'm sorry."
"I didn't peg you for a smoker," he replied, plucking a cigarette from the pack when she offered it.
Olivia shook her head, raising her lighter to light the cigarette between his lips. "I used to smoke like a chimney in high school. I thought it was so cool. Now I allow myself one a week."
"You really live right on the edge." He gave a little laugh, blowing out smoke. He held up the pack and read the slogan aloud, "You've come a long way, baby. That's cute."
Olivia took a drag off her cigarette. "What are you doing up so early?"
"Your dog woke me. I'm assuming it's a dog anyway. It kind of looks like a gerbil to me." He smirked then took a pull off his cigarette.
"She's a miniature Maltese." She smiled at the tree. "Holly, come make friends!"
Holly emerged from behind the tree, her stub of a tail wagging as she trotted to the porch. Fitz knelt, the cigarette between his lips, and allowed the dog to sniff him. He was surprised when she began licking his hands. "She's friendly."
"You smell like Stephen," Olivia replied, smiling as Holly sniffed him with interest.
They finished their cigarettes then went into the house. Olivia followed Fitz into the kitchen and started the coffee maker. Fitz placed a plate of waffles on the table then went to the kitchen and retrieved a carton of orange juice. Olivia watched him move around, wondering what it meant that he seemed so comfortable in her house.
"You cook?" she asked, watching as he placed a plate of sausage next to the waffles.
"I make three dishes: waffles, spaghetti, and T-bone steak." He gave a small proud smile. "Not the healthiest combo, but a guy's gotta eat, right?"
"I love to cook. Stephen used to joke that I was going to send him to an early grave with my meals."
He placed a plate in front of her then sat down in the other chair opposite her small round table. "You can eat. It won't hurt you."
Olivia got up and retrieved the syrup from the cabinet then sat down and took a waffle from the pile. They ate quietly, sharing a smile when Fitz dropped a sausage patty for Holly to eat.
"So Fitz, where are you from?"
"Arizona," he replied.
Olivia smiled. "That's why you were walking in the rain. Y'all never get any."
Fitz shrugged. "It's not always hot and dry in Arizona. Sometimes it's almost cold."
"The cold around here is bitter cause it comes off the water," Olivia replied. "So what brings you to Texas?"
Fitz shrugged again. "My wife left me a few years ago and I've been drifting since then."
"I'm sorry."
He frowned at his lap. "She took off with my best friend, took my son with her. Well…he's not my son. I thought he was, cut his umbilical cord and everything."
Olivia wasn't sure what to say. She couldn't imagine the hurt he was experiencing. Stephen had left her behind, but there had been no malice, no betrayal. "I'm so sorry."
He shrugged and picked up his fork. "Just a memory now."
They finished their breakfast in silence and Olivia turned on the radio before she began loading the dishwasher, listening to Fitz mill around the living room getting dressed in his own clothes. She didn't notice him standing in the doorway, smiling as she sang along to Jimmy Buffett's "Margaritaville." "Wasted away again in Margaritaville/ Searching for my lost shaker of salt/ Some people claim that there's a woman to blame/ But I know it's nobody's fault."
He waited until she finished her song before he spoke. "Could I trouble you for a ride to the train station?"
Olivia frowned. "Well you could, but it's Labor Day weekend. You won't be able to leave until Tuesday."
"Damn it sure is. I didn't even think about it." He frowned. "What am I supposed to do in this town for three days?"
Olivia wiped her hands on a dish towel. "Well…you could stay here. I don't mind. I mean if you've got no place to go, that is."
Olivia was surprised by the sweetness of his smile. "Thank you."
She wasn't sure what possessed her to do, but she walked across the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him. Fitz was surprised by the hug but recovered quickly and placed his hands gently on her thin shoulder blades. Realizing it must have been awkward for a relative stranger to hug him for no apparent reason, she let him go and cleared her throat. "You're welcome."
Fitz watched her scurry from the kitchen to let the yipping dog out into the backyard.
xxxxx
"If you don't hold still, I'm gonna stick you," Olivia admonished as she mended a rip in the inner thigh of Fitz's jeans. She smirked at him. "You know, this is much easier to do when you're not wearing the jeans. You can have a pair of Stephen's if you want."
Fitz shook his head. "These are my favorite jeans. I wear them with everything."
"So I see." He smiled at her smirk. "Still, don't you think you should have more than one pair?"
He shrugged. "I suppose. But there's no better jeans than these."
"Which is why you've worn them until they're almost not blue anymore."
"Pretty much." He looked around the sun-drenched yellow kitchen. "What do you do out here by yourself?"
Olivia shrugged. "It's not so lonely. People come all the time for my cooking. I make seasonal jams. You know, apple cinnamon for winter, sweet lemon for spring, peach for summer, boysenberry for fall. They're a big hit. And I bake. I've got to start on a wedding cake as soon as the holiday's over. And before you know it, it'll be the holidays. People come and go like clockwork. I probably make two dozen sweet potato pies a day."
Fitz smiled. "Must be good pie."
"I'd imagine so. People buy them two or three at a time," she replied. Fitz noticed the warmth of her smile when she talked about cooking, guessing it was her favorite hobby.
After she mended the rip, she went to the closet full of Stephen's clothes and returned with a pair of faded jeans and scuffed boots. "Try these out."
Fitz smirked as he went into the living room and changed. He came back into the kitchen and presented himself. "I feel very southern."
Olivia laughed. "You're missing something."
She went back to the closet and returned with a blue plaid flannel shirt. Fitz removed his leather jacket and slipped the shirt on over his plain gray undershirt. He smirked as he looked down at his outfit. "I'm practically ready for a rodeo."
"You can have all the clothes if you want. They're not getting any use sitting in my closet."
Fitz smiled. "Thank you."
"It's no trouble." Olivia smiled back. "Speaking of clothes, I should go get dressed myself. I've gotta get to the grocery store. I'm trying a new cherry pie recipe. Would you like to be a test monkey?"
"Well there's no one here but me. I hate cherry pie but duty calls I suppose." He grinned like a child.
"You hate it, huh?" Olivia asked with a smirk.
"With a passion. Warm sweet cherries, buttery flaky crust, sweet whipped cream. It's awful. But if it means no one else will have to suffer through eating it, I suppose I'll eat it all."
Olivia laughed. "You're very kind for that."
She went upstairs and dressed in a sleeveless yellow shirtdress patterned with white daisies and brown boots that looked much like the ones Fitz wore. Sunglasses pushed her mass of dark curls back from her face. Fitz wondered what someone so small did with so much hair. "I'll be back in a little while. Will you let Holly back in in a bit?"
"Yeah," he replied then watched as she walked out the front door, her abundant curls bouncing as she walked to her truck.
Olivia climbed inside and attempted to start the truck but the ignition wouldn't budge. She frowned as she tried it a few more times. "Come on. Come on. Come on."
She went into the house and found Fitz unloading the dishwasher. She smiled at his back. "You didn't have to do that. I would have done it."
He shrugged. "I'm not doing much else."
"Could you come have a look at my truck? It won't start."
"Sure." Fitz followed her out to the truck and lifted the hood. He peered at the engine for a moment before looking at her. "When's the last time you changed the oil?"
Olivia shrugged. "I guess a few years ago."
Fitz pulled the dipstick out and frowned. "Do you have any motor oil?"
"I'm sure Stephen's got some somewhere. We can have a look in the shed."
She led him to a small work shed in the backyard and turned on the single bulb hanging in the middle of the small room. Fitz looked around at the lawn mower and weed whacker, and the tools piled on the desk. He found a crate of motor oil bottles in the corner and picked it up. "I'm gonna need an old towel and a pan."
Olivia nodded and went to the house to get them for him, finding him already underneath the truck when she returned. He called, "Slide that pan under here."
Olivia knelt next to him and slid the pan close to his hand. She went inside the house, stopping to turn on the radio on her way. Fitz managed to get the old oil draining then crawled from beneath the truck. He wiped his hands on the old towel and went to sit on the front steps. Olivia reappeared with a pitcher of iced tea.
"Thirsty?" she asked, filling a glass.
"Yeah. Thanks." He took the glass from her and sipped the cold tea, smiling at its sweetness. "Good tea."
Olivia blushed as she went to sit on the porch swing, stopping to turn the radio up. Fitz joined her after a moment. "You know, this place needs a little work."
Olivia nodded. "Stephen was supposed to fix everything up. But that was before."
"Did you ever suspect anything? I mean, from what I understand, it's a pretty hard thing to hide."
"I'm loathe to admit it but I always knew. I just figured if he could ignore, so could I." She frowned. "We were high school sweethearts, or something like that. He had the saddest eyes. That's what drew me to him. I wondered what made him look so sad, even when he was smiling. And it wasn't hard to figure out after a while, especially after we became intimate. But we were happy. For 3 years in high school and 5 years after, we were happy. We might have even been in love to some extent. But all that changed when Russell Evans moved to town. They were the same kind of different and it didn't take them long to figure it out. I knew it was over the first time Stephen invited him over for dinner."
"I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say.
Olivia shook her head. "I'm not. We weren't happy any more. And we weren't doing each other any favors. I believe that in relationships, you only owe what you can give. And once you've given that, it's time to move on. No sense in being unhappy together because you feel some debt of obligation."
"What about people who are together until they die?"
"They weren't done giving. Maybe when you find the right person, you never run out of things to give." She took out a cigarette and lit it. "This one doesn't count because of the holiday."
"Wanna share it? It'll count even less." Olivia took a drag then passed it to him. She was acutely aware of Fitz's hand resting next to hers between their bodies. "Do you hate him?"
"I did the day he left. I always thought he and I could make it, if for no other reason than that we tried so hard for each other. And I felt like him leaving was giving up on us, on me. But I forgave him, not because he had done anything wrong, but because he was free and I was dragging around all that hurt."
"You're a really big person. I can't forgive Mellie, not for hurting me for no reason. She never even apologized, never told me why."
Olivia's hand tentatively covered his, her short fingers slipping between his longer ones and gently curling around them. Fitz slowly returned the gesture, curling his fingers around hers. "Sometimes we have to forgive for ourselves. It isn't fair that you never got an apology, but it isn't fair that she gets to be happy and you don't. Forgiveness is a selfish act, though most people don't know it. Forgiveness might make someone else feel better, but they'll never feel as good about it as you do. When you can let go of their hurt, when you can love yourself enough to decide you deserve to be more than injured, you feel powerful. You feel free."
"If that's the case, I think I forgave her a long time ago. I just held the anger. It wasn't even directed at her. It was at my own heart being broken. I let her hurt me and I've always thought I wasn't the kind of guy to be hurt. So I decided I'd rather be angry than hurt. You can't hurt angry people. You can't get close enough."
"I was angry too. For a whole year after Stephen left, I walked around ready to lash out at anyone who set me off. But then I went to this silly Valentine's Day party my friend Abby threw, and I danced with a man named Jake. He was awful. Arrogant, pig-headed, loud-mouthed, and the most ill-mannered person I've ever met. But he smiled at me, called me beautiful, danced with me all night. And I had fun. I remembered what it was like to be soft, to be open to the possibility of happiness. And I decided I couldn't be angry anymore, not when a soft heart was so much easier to live with."
"But don't you worry that every time you meet someone it won't work out and you'll be right back where you started?" He turned to look at her then.
"What if it doesn't work out? That's the scariest relationship question." Olivia smiled. "But there's a better one that I like to ask: What if it does?"
A slow smile spread across his face. Olivia blushed and looked at her lap. A horn honked, drawing them out of their individual musings and Olivia looked up with a smile at the street. "That's my friend Abby. I called her to bring over the pie ingredients since the truck's out of commission."
"I should get back to that oil change." He gently, almost reluctantly, slipped his hand from beneath hers, and left the porch, nodding at Abby as she passed him.
"Hey Liv," she greeted, her eyes wide with surprise at the sight of a man at her friend's house in the middle of the day.
"Hey Abby. Come on inside." Olivia walked into the house and Abby took another look at Fitz before she followed.
She walked into the kitchen behind Olivia and set the paper sack of groceries down on the kitchen table. "I didn't know mechanics made house calls."
"He's not a mechanic," Olivia replied as she began taking groceries out of the bag. She put the crusts and fresh cherries in the refrigerator then opened a window. She went to the oven and turned it on to preheat it then went back to the refrigerator for the pot of chili and leftover cornbread. She set the pot atop the stove to heat, turning on a back burner for the cornbread.
"Then who is he?"
"His name is Fitz. He's from Arizona."
Abby smirked. "Wow. I feel like I've known him forever."
"What do you want to know Abby?" Olivia asked, stirring the chili.
"Where he came from, why he's in your house, why he's wearing Stephen's clothes, what would possess you to bring a strange man into your house when you don't have any neighbors close enough to hear if he decides to come after you with an ax. I could go on if you'd like."
"I was driving home from your place last night in that rain storm and I clipped him with my mirror. He didn't have anywhere to go and I was sure I'd broken a few ribs, which I very well may have, so I brought him back here to clean him up."
Abby blinked at her. "You hit him with your car and brought him home? As opposed to—I don't know—a hospital where they take care of that kind of thing."
Olivia smirked. "I'll tell you what Abbs, if he kills me, you're allowed to be smug at my funeral."
"That's not funny."
"And he's not scary. Or crazy."
"How do you know that?"
"I just do." Olivia took the cornbread off the burner and set it on the counter, continuing to stir the chili.
Abby sighed. "I'm not comfortable leaving you here with him, Liv."
"Well he had ample time to kill me and get away, from the car ride to all last night to all day today and no one would have ever known, and yet here I am living and breathing. My understanding of murder is that it's best done quickly but I could be wrong."
Abby put her purse on her shoulder, frowning at the back of her friend's head. "I want you to call me tonight, and tomorrow morning, and if you don't, I'm calling the police."
"Bye Abby." Olivia didn't turn away from the stove as she heard Abby walk out of the house and close the door behind her.
Fitz entered just as the chili began to simmer. "Truck's all fixed up."
"Thank you." She smiled shyly at him. "I hope you don't mind more chili for lunch. I'll make something different for dinner."
"Chili's fine. Don't put yourself out for me." Fitz walked to the sink and washed his hands, moving over when Olivia joined him. He rubbed the bar of soap over the oil caked in the creases of his palms. Olivia moved away and returned with a washcloth. She wet it and gently wiped away the oil stains on his palms. Fitz watched as they came clean under the running water. "Thank you."
Olivia looked up at him and smiled. "No problem."
xxxxx
Later that night, Olivia was putting away the three cherry pies she'd made that afternoon while Fitz waxed the living room's hardwood floor. She had told him he didn't have to, but he insisted, saying that he felt bad about sleeping on her couch and eating her food for nothing in return. Olivia wanted to tell him that his company was enough, but she wasn't sure how that might sound.
"Floor's done," he announced, coming into the kitchen with the mop.
"Just put the mop in the laundry room," Olivia replied. He did as he was told then returned to the kitchen. Olivia looked back at him. "Do you want some more pie?"
"I couldn't eat another bite." He almost left then turned back in the doorway. "Do you want to watch Saturday Night Live with me?"
"I've never watched. What's it about?"
"It's sketch comedy. Some of it's a little over-the-top, but it's pretty good. And Bon Jovi is performing tonight. They're pretty good."
Olivia smiled. "Okay. Do you want some popcorn?"
Fitz shook his head. "No. I'll take a beer if you have it."
"I don't. Sorry. I'm not much of a beer drinker. I have some red wine if you'd like some of that."
"Wine sounds good." He went into the living room and was attempting to turn the sofa bed back into a couch when Olivia joined him.
"Oh it sticks some times. We can just pull the covers up," she said.
Fitz made up the bed up then sat down on the right side, leaving ample room for Olivia to sit and decide how much space should be between them. Olivia handed him a glass then sat down, leaving a small space between them. She hoped he would move closer but he stayed put, flipping to the channel on which the show aired.
He turned to look at her congenially. "The show doesn't start for a bit if you want to go change."
Olivia looked down at her dress and cherry-stained apron. "Oh. I completely forgot I had this on. I'll be right back."
She slipped off the bed, setting her glass on the little table next to the couch's arm then went upstairs and changed into a long white nightgown then twisted her hair into two French braids. She came back into the living room and sat on the bed, wondering where Fitz had gone. He reappeared a moment later with a bowl of popcorn.
"I hope you like extra butter," he said as he joined her on the bed.
"Extra butter sounds good."
Fitz sat on the bed and pointed at the screen on which the show was beginning. "That's Kevin Nealon. He's hilarious."
By the time Bon Jovi appeared for their first performance, Olivia had nodded off, her head on Fitz's shoulder. He almost didn't want to wake her as he nudged her gently until her eyes fluttered open.
"Did I miss them again?" she asked. She had half-slept through their first performance, a rowdy rendition of "You Give Love a Bad Name."
"Almost," Fitz replied.
Olivia sat up and yawned. "I'm sorry. I never doze off like this. Must have been the wine."
A few minutes later, her eyes had fluttered closed again. Fitz smiled, nudging her yet again. "I think it's time you turned in Livvie."
She looked at him in surprise. Before that moment, "Livvie" had been the hallmark of a criticism from her mother. But something about the way he said it made it special. The softness of his smile made it all his, all theirs. She nodded and slipped off the bed, headed for the stairs, her eyes still half-closed. Fitz's hands caught her when she nearly missed a step.
"I've got you." He helped her up the creaking stairs and into her room, pulling the covers back for her. Olivia yawned as she climbed into her bed, rolling on her side away from him. Fitz pulled the covers up on her shoulder then turned to leave.
"Don't go," she murmured sleepily. Looking at her closed eyes, Fitz wasn't sure if she was talking to him or dreaming of the man who had left her long ago. He returned to the bed and lay atop the covers with her, not sure how close to get. Olivia pulled on the covers then turned over to squint at him in the darkness. "You're hogging the covers."
Fitz rolled off the bed and got under the covers with her, still unsure of whether she was asleep. He was surprised when she scooted back into the curve of his body and began snoring softly. He waited until she was deeply asleep before he climbed out of bed and went back downstairs. As he drifted off to sleep on the sofa bed, he was enveloped by the scent of lilacs that she had left behind on his pajamas.
Sunday
Fitz awoke to the smell of bacon. He rolled over and could see Olivia moving around the kitchen. He could hear her singing along to The O'Jay's "She Useta Be My Girl" as she stood at the stove. Fitz went to the bathroom then went into the kitchen.
"Good morning," he said as he sat at the table.
She looked away from the skillet on the stove to smile at him. "Morning. I figured since you made breakfast yesterday, I could do it today."
"You didn't have to do that. I could have just gotten some cereal." He got up to turn on the coffee pot and turned around to find himself in her way. He smiled when they moved left at the same time then laughed when they both moved right before finally lifting her up by her waist and turning around to switch places with her. He set her on her feet and Olivia laughed as she opened the cabinets to retrieve plates. Fitz went back to the table and sat down.
"I wasn't sure if you liked cheese in your grits or your eggs or both, so I put a little in both," she said as she filled his plate with food.
"Both is good." His stomach growled at the smell of bacon as she set the plate down in front of him. He smiled as she went to get the coffee pot then placed it on the table before sitting down opposite him. "I was thinking today I could mow your lawn."
"You don't have to do that," Olivia insisted.
"It's no trouble, and it seems like a lot for you to do."
"Well I was thinking we could go to the lake if you wanted." She smiled shyly.
"We can do that too. It won't take me long."
Olivia told him about the lake as they ate then went upstairs to shower. She came out onto the porch dressed in one of Stephen's plaid shirts and denim shorts with her boots. She put her fishing supplies in the bed of the truck then sat on the porch swing and watched Holly watch Fitz intently. The little dog had a terrible fear of the lawnmower and seemed to be keeping an eye on it to make sure it never got near her, barking each time he came near the porch.
Fitz finished a short while later and Olivia blushed as she watched him remove his shirt to wipe his sweaty face. She wondered how she hadn't noticed how muscular he was when she was bandaging him up or when he stayed with her until she fell asleep the night before. He put the lawnmower away then walked onto the porch. "I'm gonna take a quick shower then we can go."
"Alright. Take your time," Olivia replied, watching as Holly followed him into the house. When a freshly showered Fitz entered the kitchen, Olivia was packing the leftover cherry pie and some sandwiches into a picnic basket. "I hope you like cold cuts."
"Livvie, I'd probably eat anything you cooked." He smiled, lifting his leg and shaking Holly off. "Your dog seems to have fallen in love with me."
"I'd like to say it's because you smell like Stephen but she never liked him that much." Holly climbed onto Fitz's boot again, growling softly as she tugged on his jeans with her little teeth.
Fitz laughed. "Maybe I've got it wrong and she's trying to kill me."
Olivia shook her head. "No. That's how she plays. She thinks she's a big dog and she's asserting her dominance."
Fitz laughed as he picked up the little dog. She sat in one hand, gnawing on his index finger on the other. "Her teeth don't even hurt."
Olivia laughed. "Are you ready to go? We've got a little drive ahead of us."
"Yeah." He put Holly down and she ran to the door, her tail thumping excitedly at the word "drive."
They left the house, headed for the truck when Abby's black El Camino screeched to a stop at the curb. Olivia looked up at her best friend with a smirk as Abby rushed down the steps. "You didn't call me this morning! Or last night!"
"I forgot. Sorry Abbs," Olivia replied.
"Liv I specifically said—"
"Abby. Stop." Olivia gave her a pointed look.
Abby in turn looked pointedly at Fitz then back at her friend. "Fine."
Olivia put the picnic basket in the trucks' backseat, sitting Holly next to it, then looked at Abby questioningly. "Is that all you came over for?"
"Yes. Where are you going?"
"The lake."
"Oh. I should be going then." She turned to leave then walked over to Fitz, extending her hand. "Hi. I'm Abby. I'm Olivia's best friend. I check on her all the time, and I do mean all the time."
Fitz shook her hand with a smile. "I'm Fitz. I guess you checking in all the time means I'll have to kill you too. I've never had the chance to chop up two women at once. This should be fun."
Olivia laughed. Abby didn't. "That might be funny if I knew you well enough to know you aren't a maniac."
"Abby." Olivia gave her friend another pointed look.
"Fine. I'll leave. But I'll be back." She gave Fitz a hard look then left.
xxxxx
Olivia fiddled with the radio for a moment, flipping from station to station for a while before she finally stopped on a Top 40 station playing Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody." She smiled as she began singing along.
Fitz looked away from the window to her. "Who is this?"
"This is Whitney Houston! She's like the best singer in the world!" Olivia couldn't believe he had never heard of her.
"I've never heard of her," Fitz replied.
"Well listen up. They play her music every other song." They had been driving for a short while when Olivia turned the radio down. "About last night…"
"You were awake?"
"Somewhat."
Fitz shrugged. "Then don't worry about it."
"I'm just trying to tell you that I…" She wasn't sure how to phrase what had happened. Being with Fitz had awakened something in her that she hadn't felt in years: genuine loneliness. His kindness had made her crave the arms of a man in a way she hadn't since Stephen left her.
"Don't worry about it."
"It's just been a long time since…" She couldn't verbalize it. She had never felt so shy in her life.
"I get it, Liv."
Looking in his eyes, she could tell that he did. She nodded and turned back to the road, acutely aware of his hand moving toward hers. She spread her fingers when his hand covered hers then curled them around his. Fitz used his free hand to turn the radio up.
At the lake they fished and watched Holly run around chasing butterflies. They watched the sun set, tentatively holding hands, then packed up and headed back.
"Do you want to stop for dinner?" Olivia asked. "I could go home and cook but I'm sure you're tired of my food by now."
"Tired of your food? I don't think it's possible, but we can stop if you're in the mood for something different."
"I know this great little rib place up the road." Olivia drove to Al's Rib Shack, a small barbecue restaurant that most people missed because of its small size.
Fitz looked around the small restaurant whose bare brick walls were covered in black and white photos of the owner Al, a large black man with a thick mustache, posing with celebrities. They were seated quickly in a booth underneath a photo of Al and Elvis.
"Supposedly Elvis loved to eat here and stopped here every time he was in Texas," Olivia said as they sat on opposite sides of the red cushioned booth.
"Well if it's good enough for the king, it must be good barbecue."
"Oh it's the best. You know, I used to work here. I was a waitress all through high school. I even dated Al's son Harrison before I met Stephen."
The waitress appeared and politely took their orders then disappeared, leaving Olivia and Fitz alone.
"I can't remember the last time I've been in a rib joint like this. It was probably five years ago, when Mellie was pregnant with Teddy. She used to crave ribs once a week. I probably gained as much weight as she did. Fitz smiled then frowned. "That's what I miss the most, you know. Having a partner in crime. Someone you could take out for pancakes at midnight, and go to dive bars with, and who'll stay up with you all night sitting around talking about the universe. You know, that feeling when you don't even want to sleep, just because you don't miss a minute of someone."
Olivia smiled wanly. "You know what I miss? Being in love. Those silly butterflies and that bubbly feeling that starts in your toes and tingles up your spine. And how you smile every time you see them, how their smile makes you smile. I haven't felt that in years."
"It'll come back around."
Olivia looked at him mournfully. "Do you really think so?"
"You tell me. You're supposed to be the optimist here." He smiled at her.
"I'm optimistic about love when I find it. I just haven't found it in so long."
"Maybe it's like losing your keys. As soon as you stop looking, it'll pop up." He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
Monday
Olivia rolled over and opened her eyes, blinking at the bright sunlight coming through the living room. She sat up on the sofa bed and looked over at Fitz asleep facing away from her. She remembered how they had watched her beloved copy of Dirty Dancing and then stayed up into the wee hours of the morning debating the movie's good points. Fitz thought it was nice story but didn't like Johnny. Olivia couldn't understand how anyone could dislike Patrick Swayze.
She gently climbed off the bed and went to the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker. She turned on the radio and flipped until she found the country station then opened the window above the sink to let in a breeze. She hummed along to a George Jones song as she found her muffin pan in the cabinet below the sink. She was greasing the pan and singing along to Alabama's "Dixieland Delight" when Fitz entered the kitchen. "Spent my dollar/ Parked in a holler 'neath the mountain moonlight/ Hold her up tight/ Make a little lovin'/ A little turtle-dovin' on a Mason-Dixon night/ Fits my life oh so right/ My Dixieland delight."
"I didn't peg you for a country fan," Fitz said, making his presence known as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe.
"This is Texas. You either love country or go deaf." Olivia laughed. "Plus country is just the blues with a little twang."
"And everything's better with a little twang." He smiled as he sat at the table, watching Olivia pour muffin batter into the pan.
"Why do you think I keep my drawl so strong?" She laughed as she put the pan into the oven. "I hope you like butter rum muffins. They're my specialty."
"Livvie, let's get one thing straight. I like food. I'm like a stray dog. Feed me and I'll be back." He smiled.
Olivia laughed as she started the timer. "Well that's nice to know."
"So what's on the agenda today?"
"Abby is having a barbecue. We could go if you want." She smiled. "Or we could stay here and watch Dirty Dancing again so you can see the error of your ways."
"I'd like to go to the barbecue but your friend Abby doesn't seem to like me very much."
"That's just Abby. She'll warm to you."
xxxxx
"Do you want another wine cooler?" Fitz asked Olivia as they sat on Abby's back porch swing. The barbecue was still in full swing though it was dusk and Abby was enjoying herself making the rounds as hostess while her loud neighbor Hollis manned the grill. Torches lined the backyard in case the party lasted into the night and everyone wore their most casual party clothes in anticipation of a long, fun night as Abby's parties had become something of a legend in the neighborhood. Everyone was polite but curious about Fitz and Olivia had taken to telling people he was an ax murderer on the run to keep introductions short.
"Not yet. I'd like to eat first," she smirked at Hollis as he carried on about his grilling process, "assuming anything ever comes off the grill."
"Do you want some more watermelon to tide you over?"
Olivia smirked. "The watermelon's drunk."
"What?"
"Abby injected it with vodka. Didn't you taste it?"
"Not even a little bit." He laughed. "Who would ever think to do something like that?"
"Hollis taught us to do it last summer."
"So it's redneck magic."
Olivia gave a tipsy laugh, her head falling back. Abby turned up her stereo and Olivia grinned, exclaiming, "I love this song!"
"I've never heard it," Fitz replied.
"You've never heard "Kiss"? Next you'll be telling me you don't know who Prince is at all."
"I'm guessing he sings the song," Fitz replied.
"You're a real detective." She laughed at her own joke. "Come on and dance with me."
Fitz followed her out onto the lawn, smiling as she threw her hands up and swung her hips. He could only watch as she danced to the upbeat song, seeming to forget he was there as she enjoyed herself. When the song was over, she looked at him. "Can't you dance?"
Fitz shrugged. "Not really."
Olivia laughed, leaning against him. She looked around for Abby. "Hey Abbs, play something slow. Fitz has two left feet."
Abby went to the stereo and flipped around until she found an R'n'B station. Olivia smiled. "Who's singing?"
"Whitney Houston," he replied proudly. Olivia had played both of Whitney's albums for him earlier that day.
"Look at that. You'll be hip yet." She wrapped her arms around his neck, already swaying to the song. "This is "Saving All My Love for You." It's one of my favorites. It's the kind of song you'll hear somewhere in 20 years and it'll take you back to a moment, you know."
"Like dancing at a barbecue with a pretty girl."
"Like finding your keys after you've looked for them all day." She blushed, not meaning to say her thought aloud.
Fitz smiled. "That's the best feeling in the world."
They danced to a few more songs before heading back to Olivia's house where she brought out her old record player for him. She dug through her crate of records, smiling when she pulled out her favorite one. "Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong were made to collaborate."
She put the record on, skipping to her favorite song. "This is probably the most romantic song ever. It's called 'Stars in Alabama.' Have you ever heard it?"
"I don't think so."
Olivia joined him on the sofa bed. "This was supposed to be mine and Stephen's wedding song, but he insisted on 'When a Man Loves a Woman.'"
"Would you ever get married again?"
"Yes," she answered immediately. "I can't give up on love. My heart won't let me."
"I don't think I could. I've been drifting for so long… I can't just settle down again."
"You'll stay someday. When it's right, you won't be able to be anywhere else."
Fitz smiled at her. "You always seem so sure."
Olivia shrugged. "I believe in love more than I believe in anything else."
Fitz squeezed her knee. "Do you want to dance?"
"Yes."
Fitz stood and offered his hand, which Olivia took almost shyly. Laying her head on his firm but soft chest and closing her eyes, Olivia could almost imagine that Fitz was hers to keep, that she wouldn't have to take him to the bus station the next morning and say goodbye. They danced until the record went silent then quietly climbed the stairs to Olivia's room. Fitz undressed and got into her bed, breathing in her scent on her sheets as he watched her change into her white nightgown. Olivia smiled shyly as she got into bed beside him and turned off her bedside lamp. She sheepishly cuddled close, laying her head on his chest and listening to the calm thud of his heartbeat. Fitz pulled her closer, pulling her right leg between his. He kissed the crown of her head, rubbing her bare arm. It didn't take long for her breathing to even out as she drifted off to sleep. Fitz smiled in the dark, watching her eyelids flutter as she dreamed.
Tuesday
Olivia awoke with the sun, stretching in Fitz's embrace and waking him too. She yawned as she sat up, giving him room to stretch fully. Fitz sat up beside her and brushed her hair back from her face, smiling when she did the same to him. He held her face, wondering if he had ever seen a woman so beautiful and if he ever would again.
"Kiss me," she whispered. "Just once."
Fitz leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, letting his eyes close as their mouths melded. Olivia brought her hands to his face, pretending it was a kiss good morning instead of a kiss goodbye.
xxxxx
The ride to the bus station was quiet. Olivia wasn't sure what to say. She couldn't ask him to write, knowing that as soon as she opened her mouth she'd ask him to stay. But he wasn't ready to stop running, not yet, not for her. Fitz couldn't ask her what he desperately wanted to know: if she was willing to try, if she could forgive him if he found he couldn't stay. He couldn't do that to her, couldn't be the second man to leave. Most of him knew that if he stayed, he'd never leave. But a small part of him, buried somewhere deep and bitter in his soul, was afraid it wouldn't be enough, that he'd end up breaking her heart again. And he couldn't do that, not when she loved him so innocently.
She stayed until he found the bus he was looking for, standing a few feet away from the ticket booth. Fitz stuffed his hands in his pockets, the bag she had packed for him at his feet. "I guess this is it."
"Looks like it," she replied, trying not to sound sad. He opened his mouth to say goodbye but Olivia put her hand up. "Let's not."
Fitz was quiet for a moment. "Okay."
He kissed her one last time, pulling her onto her toes. Olivia's eyes were wet as she walked out of the station but she didn't cry. She wouldn't allow herself to cry over another man leaving her behind. She took the long way home, smoking her cigarette slowly. She kept telling herself that it had only been three days, that that wasn't long enough to do real damage to her heart. They were both just lonely, that's all. She finally made it home and turned the radio down low as she unmade the sofa bed. She managed to get it folded up then put the couch cushions back in place. She put the sheets in the washing machine then changed into her pajamas and went to bed, pulling the sheets up over her head. Holly joined her, giving her cheek a sympathetic lick before lying down next to her. She slept until it was dark, only waking to let Holly out for a bathroom break. When she went back to bed, she found she couldn't sleep. She just lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, the scent Fitz had left behind wafting off the pillow beneath her head.
Wednesday
Olivia wasn't sure when she fell back asleep, only that it was dawn when an incessant knocking awoke her. She rolled out of bed, sure that it was Abby waiting to tear her a new one for not calling again. She schlepped down the stairs, still blinking awake, and went to the front door. She opened the door and her eyes widened at the sight of Fitz on the other side. She opened the screen door and stepped back to let him inside.
"Good morning," was all he said as he set his bag down near the door.
"Good morning," Olivia replied, looking at him quizzically.
He walked to the kitchen and Olivia followed, wondering what had brought him back so casually, as if he'd just gone to the store. In the kitchen, he started the coffee maker then sat down at the table. Olivia sat opposite him and waited for an explanation but Fitz offered none, only smiling at her happily. "What's for breakfast?"
Olivia smirked. "I cooked yesterday."
"You made cereal."
"And you ate it."
"Fine." He stood and walked to the cabinets. "Waffles it is."
Olivia watched him take down her big mixing bowl and the ingredients he needed for his waffles then stood and walked to him. She wrapped her arms around him and lay her head on his back. "Why are you back?"
Fitz reached back to squeeze her hip. "You were right. I couldn't imagine being anywhere else."
A/N: Don't forget to review! XOXOXO